Ancient times- Heroes of Olympus
by Oi opakio
Summary: So what if our favourite demi-gods were born in Ancient Greece and Rome? When Greece and Rome are set against each other, Jason Grace, Percy Jackson, Annabeth Chase, Frank Zhang, Leo Valdez, Hazel Levesque and Piper McLean are on respective sides. What will happen when they collide. And can they agree to get on and save the world?
1. Chapter 1

**Hello! I don't have much to say really, except that I'm sorry for any grammatical mistakes or typos, because, though I've checked, I'm sure a few have slipped past without me noticing. I'm also sorry for anything historically inaccurate, and if you have any corrections I'd love to know. Apart from that, thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy.**

**Disclaimer: Hey, the word to the left says it all!**

* * *

Jason Grace, praetor of Rome and commander of the seventh fleet, stood at the bow of his ship, staring at the way they were going. It had been two days since they'd set sail from the small town of Siderno, on the South-East coast of Italy, and not one of his men were pleased to be sailing in Neptune's realm. The Ionian sea was well know to be treacherous and deadly to any Roman, yet it was the fastest and most strategic way to get to Greece.

His fleet was set for Crete where the Athenian King and Queen were staying. His, and four other fleets would close in round Lentas. Jason wasn't all that pleased about the attack. Every time the Romans conquered another people, he felt more like he was evil. These were powerful people. The Greeks has always resisted Rome, but they wouldn't be a threat. For the third time that morning, Jason pondered the emperor's, Regulus, decision.

They'd never attacked by sea before. It was never the Roman's forte; the Greeks were strong in the waves. It was even rumoured that their King's son, Perseus, was _really _son of Neptune. Strange things happened in the sea when he was around. He eyed the sea warily. Anything could be under those waves, waiting to attack...

Jason hated the sea more than any ordinary Roman. That was saying a lot, since a few emperors ago (around ten years) Caligula had ordered the sea whipped. But Jason's hat ran much deeper than a childish tantrum. He felt he _should _be superior of the sea, but knew it had a power that could well match his.

"Are you okay, Legatus?" Frank, the Optio (second in command) asked Jason, standing at his side. Jason realised he had be gripping the side of the ship, his knuckles white, and shacking tensely. He shot a look at his Optio.

"I no longer trust the Emperor's decisions. This – this is..." he cut himself off from saying madness. A man would be crucified for less. "This feels dangerous. You know?"

"The sea has never been our friend," Frank clarified. Frank had only just joined the legion a year ago, but had showed almost in-human ability at fighting. His bulky stature was never far from Jason, and the two young men had developed a strong bond which could only be made from being in life-or-death situations together. Around each other, they felt less like the boys people accused them of being. It was true, both were only just breaking the eighteen mark, but youth had proven very valuable in the Roman army recently.

"Sir?" Frank's African freed-slave addressed Jason timidly, "Octavion requests your presence. Yours too," she said to Frank. Jason smiled kindly at the girl. She was beautiful, and one day Jason hoped Frank would settle down in retirement with her as a wife. He wanted him to be happy, if he didn't die first.

"Thank you Hazel," he said gently. Hazel was one of the only people besides Frank who could get to his soft side. She was nervous of him, which saddened him a little, but was such a sweet thing amongst some of the things he saw every day.

Jason searched the deck for Octavion. He saw him 'consulting' the sacred chickens. He didn't look happy. As Jason walked to the Auger, he saw why. The chickens round his feet ignored the seeds scattered on the floor. One lay dead. The omen was clear: this battle would be lost. Behind him, Frank gasped, making the mano fico (fig hand) to ward off evil.

"Holy Jupiter," Jason breathed. Octavion smiled gravely.

"This is not a battle you want to engage in," he said to Jason, and Jason noticed how he didn't address him 'Legatus' as was the proper was.

"Frank?" Jason asked, panic rising in his throat, "what – what should we do?"

""We will surely perish if we don't turn round now!" Octavion cried, turning the heads of the neared slaves rowing.

"Perish?" One called before getting a lash from the slave-master.

"What of the emperors orders though?" Frank asked, "I don't think he'd be all that pleased – or believing."

"We could..." Octavion started, but was cut off by the call from the crow's nest.

"A ship, a Greekship!" The soldier called.

"By Mount Olympus, turn round now!" Octavion cried in panic.

"We can't, their ships are lighter; can sail faster!" Jason said, "hold!" The slave-master ordered the slaved to stop rowing. The whole Roman ship was silent. The soldiers below deck had quickly caught onto the situation, and awaited instruction. The slaves were terrified. Everyone on deck regarded the single Greek ship as it approached. They had spotted them. Their flag didn't single peace.

"We are surely all going to die," Jason muttered under his breath...

* * *

"This is a Roman ship, my Prince. Armed. Surly their intent to attack Crete," a lookout informed Perseus. He shook his head.

"Why can't they just accept peace?" He asked, " can we defeat them now?" Annabeth, his betrothed, answered.

"Our arches can pick off those on deck, but there's half a legion below. We'd just be killing slaves most likely. Their numbers – probably around forty. They outnumber us, but, you could – you know..." She was the only one set his mother and step-father, who knew of his abilities. Who his real father was. Percy really didn't want it to be common knowledge, but if it saved lives...

"Can we defeat them?" he asked again, trying to swallow his annoyance at Annabeth's long lectures.

"Probably, yes. It is known we have skill on sea."

"Good," he said, then raised his voice so the ship could hear, "archers, climb the rigging. Don't shoot the slaves; wait for the soldiers to come out. Swordsmen, ready!" The thirty men assembled as practised.

"A warning shot!" He yelled, and one man fired his arrow, hitting the mast with the precision of someone assisted by Apollo.

* * *

The arrow vibrated in the wood behind Jason. He spun round. Had they identified him as the leader? No, if they had, he'd be dead by now.

"You should get below deck, sir!" Frank called as if reading his thoughts, but Jason shook his head, "it's my duty to protect my legion." He drew his sword. Frank did the same.

"Should we arm the slaves?" Frank asked.

"No, they could turn on us. Keep them chained." Jason said. He hoped the Greeks weren't as barbaric as some said. He hoped they wouldn't kill the innocent and defenceless men. The Greek ship was only thirty meters away now. Jason could make out the face of their leader.

"Perseus," he muttered under his breath. The prince of Athens. Emperor Regulus would be very pleased with his capture or death. As soon as that thought crossed his mind, he angrily shoved it away. He was _not _doing this for his own glory. He didn't want to do this at all. The ship continued to advance. Twenty meters, fifteen, fourteen...

_Bam! _Before the humans could engage in battle, a horrific shadow passed over the ships. The presence behind Jason was so terrible, he knew he'd met his match. Fighting armies was one thing. Fighting monsters... Such had only been told in the old stories. Had Perseus actually summoned?..

The creature was terrifying. It looked a lot like a dragon, but was obviously adapted to the sea. It's head was ringed with an intimidating collar, which it extended and drew in casually, and it's teeth were long and sharp, like a million haphazard daggers had been chucked into it's mouth. It was the size of three long, Greek ships, and twice as wide.

Beside him, Frank whimpered. The slaves were screaming, straining against their tethers. Octavion had fled below deck.

The Ketos Aithiopios raised it's tail. And with one swipe, destroyed the two ships.

* * *

Leo was blinded with salt water. The chains and the other slaves were dragging him into the dark nothingness below. It was a place he _couldn't _be. He wanted light and warmth and hope. Some of the slaves on his chain had stopped struggling, succumbing to death. Leo knew better. As quickly as the water allowed, he whipped out the lady's hair pin he'd hidden a few weeks ago, waiting for a chance to escape. It would save his life now.

He blindly inserted it into the lock of his shackles, wiggling it around. He felt as soon as they released. He focused only on holding his breath as he worked his dead limbs to the surface, thanking the Gods and his mother, for teaching him how to swim. It seemed an age. Every stroke felt like it would be his last. But slowly, slowly, he found his way back to life.

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**Okay, so that's it. I'll try to update regularly. Please please please review because it makes me happy. **


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello again! I updated quickly. This is so fun (and hard) to write. Thank you soooo much for all the feedback and followers. It surprised me (and no, I ****_didn't _****sprint down the stairs to proclaim this news to my dog, ****_really!). _****Anyway, here's the next chapter. Hope you enjoy.**

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Jason spluttered to the surface. He'd swallowed at least three mouthfuls of the salt water, and it was so cold. So so cold. He was flailing, and then searching. He was searching so hard for Frank, and Hazel and even Octavion. Any proof that he wasn't alone in the middle of a nightmare. He was surrounded by wreckage of his ship. With a sudden feeling or dread, he realised that the soldiers would have been dragged to the sea bed by their heavy metal armour, and the slaves were in chains...

"Frank!" He called desperately, his voice cracking, "Hazel, please!" The open space absorbed the sound. There was no echo. He grabbed wildly onto a piece of wood left over from the ship. It was large, as big as a chariot, and curved. It would be a suitable boat for at least ten survivors. Surely. And there _would _be survivors. There would.

Suddenly, around ten meters away from him, two figures burst up. His heart leapt, before sinking back to the dark sea floor. They weren't his two friends; they were two of his biggest enemies. Perseus seemed unharmed, but he was struggling to drag Annabeth, princess of Ioannina, above the water. Jason knew they would die, and then he'd be safe (well, as safe as he _could_ be out there) but his typical self took over. He was honourable, but sympathetic.

"Over here!" he called. Perseus turned, his eyes widening as he saw the Roman praetor beckoning to him. For a moment, it seemed like he would decline the offer, but then, thinking better of it, he started swimming towards the wreckage. Jason picked up how he seemed to be travelling faster than he'd thought possible, like the currents were propelling him along.

"Here," Perseus said once got to the raft. He pushed the unconscious Annabeth up to Jason. It looked like it was painful for him to trust his love in the hands of the enemy. Jason took her under the armpits, hauling the body up. She was heavy for a girl, like she actually had muscles under her skin. Much unlike the Roman house-wives. The only women to have muscles to the Romans were slaves.

Once Annabeth was safe, he put a hand out to Perseus. The Prince reluctantly took it, eyeing the sword at his hip. Once he was safe on the boat, Percy immediately rushed to Annabeth. She wasn't breathing and her lips were tinged with blue. Jason heard Perseus muttering under his breath.

"Maybe I can help," he offered.

"No. Be useful and call for survivors," the prince replied bluntly. Jason wasn't used to disrespect, but somehow managed to swallow his pride enough to co-operate. What Perseus was saying _did _make sense. He drew a shaky breath in and put a hand to his mouth.

"Hello? Is anyone there; we can help you!"

"Help! Please, we need help!"

* * *

Hazel was trying not to go under but she didn't have the first idea how to swim, and it was all she could do not to drown her master in the process of using his as buoyancy. Frank tried to calm her, but the girl was panicking. She'd been through too much.

Frank hoped that the promised help would come soon. He wasn't sure how long he could keep them both up. As he spluttered to the surface for the umpteenth time, he saw a dark shape a few meters from himself. Another survivor!

"Hello?" He called. The head turned, and he saw the face of a girl. She was a little younger than he was and was stereotypically Greek royalty beautiful.

"Who are you?" She called.

"It's okay, we're friends," Frank reassured. The girl swam over. He concluded that she was definitely of some status; swimming wasn't a luxury peasants could afford.

"Let me," she said to Frank, gently readjusting Hazel in the water, rolling her onto her back and supporting her head. Hazel ceased struggling, finding herself more stable in the water. Frank supported her back.

"Who _are _you?" Frank asked.

"Piper," she answered, seemingly reluctant to offer information.

"There's – a boat coming," Frank spluttered.

"Stop using your arms to keep afloat. Kick _wide _with your _legs,"_ Piper scolded.

"Um, okay." Frank complied, and found he could finally catch his breath. He stroked his freed-slave's hair.

"Don't worry, helps coming soon."

* * *

Percy had managed to get Annabeth breathing and had expelled the water from her lungs. She was still unconscious, but he figured she'd be okay. He'd also managed to direct the currents to drive the boat towards the voice they'd heard without the praetor realising. If that secret got out, the Romans would have – not an angle to attack, admittedly – but an idea on how to play their battles. He'd be keeping his scabbard free while in the company of that invading Roman.

As they topped a wave, he suddenly caught sight of a huddle of people in the water. A Roman legionnaire, a dark-skinned girl he guessed was a slave, and another girl. There was something familiar about the way she looked. The olive hue of her skin, her choppy brown hair...

"Piper!" He yelled. The raft was ten meters away, but she heard him fine.

"Percy!" she cried out, sobbing furiously, "I'm sorry- I stowed away."

"Be quiet, I'm coming." He focused on the water beneath him, manipulating the currents to his will. The raft edged towards the group. As it reached them, Hazel was the first aboard, shivering and whispering incoherently in her native tongue. Next, Frank pushed Piper up. She looked more guilty than afraid, so Percy smiled forgivingly at her, though it only seemed to make her even more ashamed. Finally, Jason pulled his colleague up. He gave a weak salute, then slumped forwards, exhausted.

Percy checked Annabeth first, reassuring himself she would be fine, then went to Piper. His fiancée's personal maid (though only that, a maid) was also a close friend to the royal family. She had been sent there to be protected from the monsters which continuously attacked, by her father, a poor but young farmer. He'd known the royals would take her in; they were always giving out kindness to the poor.

She had arrived alone, with only a letter in explanation of her arrival. Percy had been eight at the time – Piper six – but the children had swiftly become friends. At first, Piper was set to work in the kitchens, but as she grew, it was clear she was too intelligent for such tasks. Though called a handmaiden, she was more like Annabeth's sister.

"I stowed away," Piper sobbed. Percy pulled her into a hug.

"It's okay, it's okay," he muttered into her hair. He hugged her until the girl fell asleep.

* * *

Leo went under again. The cold was numbing his limbs and sapping the strength from them. Every now and then, he swallowed a mouthful of the vile, salty water. A shackle was still clamped round one ankle, weighing him down, and he didn't have anything to get rid of it with. Every minuter he was closer to drowning.

"Hello? Is anyone there; we can help you!" The voice was clearly audible over the rushing of the water. It sounded close. The slave couldn't call out – he was too tired – but if he could get closer... It was another few minuets before he heard anything again.

It was like the raft suddenly appeared out of nowhere. One second, nothing. Then he caught sight of it, twenty meters away. In his current situation, Leo couldn't quite make out who was there, but he didn't have time or strength to fret about that. Using the last ounce of his energy, he lifted a hand and drew in a breath.

"Help!" It sounded too weak and quiet to him, but apparently it was enough, as two of the figures turned to him, "help me, please!" At first, they seemed too taken aback to take action, but then realisation dawned in their faces. The dark-haired one dived in, and swam strongly to where Leo was. Once the prince saw Leo's eyes fluttering, he immediately turned him onto his back, hauling him back to the raft.

It seemed like an age, but finally Leo was out of the water. He didn't have time to think about his position as a slave, or the consequences of having the hairpin. As soon as he was safe, he passed out.

* * *

Percy was trying to get back onto the raft. He was more tired that he let on to the others, using a lot of energy controlling the water. As he was hauling himself up, the swell in the water increased like a giant fin had...

"It's back!" The praetor yelled. And from the water behind him, the looming figure of the Ketos Aithiopios reared over the seven refugees.

**I'm sorry, I have a liking of cliffhangers. I will update as soon as possible. Please review!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hi people. I'm sorry for not updating in a while. I've had writer's block and whenever I opened up the word document and read through the last few paragraphs I'd wrote I just ****_couldn't _****think. But hey, here it is at last. I'm not quite sure of the quality of some of my writing, but I did my best. Enjoy. xxx**

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Hazel was home. Her family – her family was alive again. The Romans _hadn't _murdered them. It had all been a... dream. The word was enough to snap Hazel out of her joy. She' wasn't dreaming; it was a flashback. A glimpse of happier times.

Almost on cue, a twelve year old version of herself walked into the light of the dancing flames. Every evening they lit the bonfire to keep away the bad spirits which came out at night. It was the one hour of darkness, once the sun had sunk below the horizon, which Hazel loved. They'd sing, and sometimes dance, and tell stories of worse and better times.

Her whole family – together. Her mother, who cared for her children, keeping them in line when they wandered astray. Her father, the family's rock, their leader. But Hazel knew just the right way to speak to him to soften him up. Make him tickle her until she got the hiccups. Her two younger brothers, Badrani and Bello. Badrani meant 'full moon', because he had been born at midnight. Bello meant 'helper', thought that was just proof that names carried no prophecy. And the elders, her grandmother and grandfathers. It was a nice life.

And then the Romans had come. They had said they were friends. They had come to find out about her life, and no life could be better than theirs, so they showed them. They showed them the camels and the dogs. The hunting tools and the fire and the religion and the rituals. And in repayment, they took away Hazel, her brothers and her mother, and killed the rest.

Hazel's eyes shot open. She gasped, the flashback bringing a sudden end to her rest. The sea churned around them. A colossal fin rose, and then forcefully smashed down. The wave created was as tall as a ship, and it was a wonder the raft hadn't capsized. Hazel screamed, clinging to the side. The Greek princess and a boy she'd never seen before were lying unconscious in the curve of the wood. Frank was trying to hold them on.

* * *

Percy didn't know which way was up and which was down. He was spiralling down through the ocean after being knocked out for a few seconds by the Ketos Aithiopios, and was fighitng frantically to get to the surface. The water hadn't healed him as it usually did. He supposed it was because he was too fatigued; even water had it's limits.

Finally the prince managed to regain himself. He was around fifteen meters deep. Above him, he could make out the shape of what was happening, and it didn't look good. The raft had wandered far to the side somehow, and the sea-creature was perusing it like a dog after a rabbit. And supposedly with the same horrific intention.

Annabeth was on that raft, and Piper. He needed to get back to them. He needed to ensure their safety. That monster was making fast progress, so he acted upon instinct, using his ability to talk to the monster through its thoughts. It was an art he'd always tried to avoid. It creeped himself and others out, but now was no time to fuss.

'_Not them,"_ he said firmly. The monster did a surprised half turn jump which might have been comical if he weren't in a life or death situation. It cocked it's head.

'_No humans?_'

_'No, go away_." For a moment, Percy actually believed it would work. Then the creature seemed to realise it was being tricked. It's lidless eyes fixed on the demi-god. It drew it's twitching lips up slowly, exposing its deadly teeth. And swam towards him with deadly intention.

* * *

Jason shook his head. Stupid, stupid- a praetor and commander of a fleet should do better than to be froze by trauma while all around him they were under attack, in danger on being capsized and the Prince of Athens had just fell into the churning Ionian sea housing a currently very annoyed and most likely hungry sea monster.

He understood that they were enemies, but when you actually enter a life or death situation and they aren't the ones making it lethal, life tends to bond you most frustratingly. After saving his life and watching him save Annabeth, it made Perseus seem much more human to Jason than most Romans.

As he recovered from his mild trauma, Jason began to hyperventilate almost strait away. Perseus was – what? Dead? Or about to be killed. The raft's other inhabitants were far too occupied with looking after themselves and each other, meaning Jason was the only one aware of Perseus' absence. He drew this sword, Ivlivs, and plunged into the blue.

* * *

While the Ketos Aithiopios approached at alarming speed, Percy used his remaining strength to propel himself to the surface. He could have made it if he'd had a few more seconds, but he didn't. The monster's tail collided with him intentionally, sending him spinning to the side. It knocked stars into his vision, and pain shot down his leg and arm. Inside his head, he could hear the creatures deafening chanting: '_die, son of Poseidon; son of Neptune. Die die die!' _Needless to say, Percy didn't obey.

Again the monster charged. Percy fumbled at his belt, drawing Riptide. He slashed repeatedly at it's eyes. Every time it approached, he used the currents to spring himself upwards, stabbing at the face, its weakest spot. Finally, he made one last stab and slash, and the water exploded into gold.

The last thing Percy could remember was sinking, and thinking '_can I even breathe underwater when I'm unconscious?' _Then he blacked out.

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**Sorry sorry sorry. I love cliffhangers; they're the ****_best _****way to end a chapter. Please review because 1. It will make me update faster and 2. It makes my day. Thankyou for reading!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hi all. Firstly, I'm sorry for the slow update. I have been singing three days last week in my school's musical. That and school work are to blame so sorry. Anyway, wow, I'm ecstatic with all the support I've been getting. I just hope I can continue to write as well (and improve) in future chapters. Here it is...**

* * *

The salt water stung Jason's eyes like pins were being shot at them. His vision was blurry, and the only way her could perceive his surroundings was by the shapes and silhouettes. It wasn't too hard to locate the action- the Greek prince and the monster. A large black blob was charging a smaller, limp one. Rising to the surface for air, a plan formed in his strategic mind. Swim to Perseus and save him. Somehow.

He stared swimming to the fight, but before he could do anything helpful, the small shape lunged for the creature's eyes, stabbing one final time, and the creature went limp. Its carcass sunk to the seabed, far below. Perseus remained still for a moment, then his muscles relaxed. The sword in his hand sunk out of sight, and his body followed.

Jason snapped into action. He manoeuvred himself into a straight position, facing right down, and quickly caught the boy. He struggled for a grip and settled for the wrist. Perseus was a dead weight, and Jason's air was running out, but slowly, slowly, the surface neared. Blood thumped in Jason's ears. His head spun. His muscled screamed at him. He was about to take a breath of water, inevitably killing him, when they broke surface.

* * *

Annabeth woke up shivering. Crystallised salt crusted her lips and hair- even her eyelashes! For the first time in six years, her sleep had been dreamless. It should have been a relief, but was bittersweet due to the fact that her betrothed had just escaped death by a fraction. Again.

"What happened?" she whispered as she helped him up onto the raft. The Praetor, Jason, clambered on after him. Percy shook his head in response, slumping against the princess who held him in weak but comforting arms.

"It's okay, we're safe. He – he killed it!" Jason gasped as if he still couldn't believe the fact. Annabeth shot him a glance which on the outside looked hostile, but it's true meaning was confusion. She still couldn't get her head round the fact that he'd voluntarily saved Percy and hers life, but the hazy memories proved the point. She still refused to believe that it was stimulated by anything but glory and selfishness, though she was still working on the reasoning.

Annabeth ran her hands through Percy's hair until she felt him truly relax and his breathing deepen. She continued for some more, avoiding the impending exchange of words with anyone else on the raft. She did, though, use the time to analyse them out of the corner of her eye and from behind the protective veil of her hair.

Her eyes flickered over the two Romans, two slaves and a – Greek girl?

"P-Piper?" Annabeth stuttered. A rebellious tear escaped her eye. The younger girl hung her head, her dark hair covering her face.

"I was worried," Piper said quietly, "you going on the ship and..." she trailed off, regarding the Romans, "not here." Annabeth scanned her 'sister's' guilty and miserable face, her shivering shoulders and scarred hands. Without a word, angry or otherwise, the princess pulled Piper into a hug. The girls clutched each other a while, hiding their tears. The raft's further residents were silent, and Annabeth was thankful for that.

Once regaining herself, Annabeth pushed Piper to arm's length, forcing her to look into her eyes, "_those Romans had no idea what they were doing; they fought as poorly as slaves," _she said in slow Greek. Piper tilted her head, confused at where her sister was going, but Annabeth was looking at Jason and the other soldier. Jason had been gazing blankly at one of the girls, while the other soldier was fussing over the freed-slave. They showed no sign of understanding the insult.

Annabeth had presumed that, like highly born Greeks, the Romans would have learned their enemies native language. Apparently not. It _was _like them; thinking that they were so important, they needn't learn anything about their enemies.

"_I was just saying that to make sure they didn't understand," _Annabeth explained. Piper nodded in understanding, "_now, explain." _The younger girl shifted uncomfortably.

"_I _knew _something like this would happen. You know, you running into a Roman ship. And now look at us." _

_"__Piper, we knew the dangers; that's why we didn't allow you to come." _Piper's head hung further, until her chin touched her chest. She screwed her face up, and put it in her hands.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled in Latin, "_but I wanted to be there to help you. Roman territory is just so dangerous. I – I couldn't bear it if I lost you." _Annabeth enveloped her in her arms.

* * *

Frank had a strong erge to draw his sword. The Greek women were so much more intimidating that the typical Roman lady, with their toned muscles and strategic minds. It made even him in all his bulk nervous when they spoke in the swift and unusual language of Greek. It was quite possible they were planning his death right at that minuet.

Hazel rested her head in his lap, eyes still wide from shock. Frank may not have been the softest of people, but when it came to his former slave – she was everything to him. He had bought her from a dealer in Palizzi Marina three years ago when travelling with the army. At first, she'd served as a personal slave, but as the years went by, the girl realised she could trust her new master. And from slave she went to friend and finally love had seeded in Frank's heart.

She'd been free for seven months, but usually stuck by Franks side none the less. Honestly, he was quite pleased about that, though saddened by the fact that she was too frightened to live her own life. He had offered her a chance to return to her country, but she politely declined. To Frank, her past was misty. However close they grew, he had the feeling it would be the one secret that remained untold.

Suddenly, by his feet, the Spanish slave jolted up. His eyes were wide like he'd woken from a nightmare, though it was also possible that he just remembered what had happened with the ship. He shivered even though the sun had evaporated the water from his clothes. Frank glanced at Jason, noting the Praetor had the same unsure expression. Slaves, especially lowly ship slaves, were known to be treacherous and unforgiving. Give one a chance and he would kill his master without blinking.

But this one couldn't top seventeen. He wasn't like some of the men who rowed, with their bulging biceps and vulgar habits. One the contrary, he was somewhat scrawny and even showed a hint, just a hint of delicacy in the way he moved.

Frank, though pleased at his survival, was also somewhat bothered that a slave _could _escape. It was one of the most punishable crimes in the Roman empire, and dangerous. How many other slaves had the means to be free? Were they just waiting for the right moment?

Before anyone had time to react or say something, Piper gasped, her delicate hands covering her mouth. Frank turned, following her line of sight. Just emerging from the horizon was the mast and sails of a ship. But Frank would have preferred drown at sea that be taken captive on this ship...

* * *

**I need to learn how to stop using cliffhangers. Sorry! I know there wasn't much action here, but it was kind of a filler chapter. Please review! xx**


	5. Chapter 5

**Well, here it is at last. I can only offer appoligies for it's lateness. I have been really busy lately ****_and _****had really bad writer's block, but hey. I know it's no excuse. On the plus side, I am now getting into the story and it should start to take shape quickly now. Hope you enjoy! P.S. If there is anything you would like to happen or any characters you'd like to see, comment or PM me. I can't change the plot, but ideas are always welcome :) Enjoy!**

* * *

As Hazel felt Frank tense, she experienced a chocking sensation in her stomach, like all the air had just disappeared causing a vacuum and no air could enter to replace it. She had a good idea what it was; she'd not been able to stop thinking about the possibility of such an unfortunate occurrence. She may have pretended to be a simple slave-girl to everyone but Frank, but really her mind was sharper than most.

Sitting up, her eyes confirmed her fears. It was a medium sized vessel with intricately carved designs carved in the top half of the hull: exotic swirls; pagan patterns. Unlike most of the Roman and Greek ships which were usually backed up with many oars-men, this one was sail-powered like the Western countries' of the Roman empire: Gaulia, Hispainia, Mauretania and – Numdia. Her home. That fact made her heart (if possible) sink further. It had been at the bottom of the ocean; now it was in the Roman's Hades.

She groped for Frank's hand in a rare moment of feebleness. She found it, and the Centurion squeezed hers reassuringly, though the fact that Frank, one of the most powerful men she knew, felt the situation was in need of reassurance just made her a little less reassured. The fact that the boat was from the Western lands meant that the treatment of their captives was worse than usual. Their captives being slaves; that was a slave ship.

* * *

Percy dreamed of unexplainable things. Like golden sand surrounded by thousands, all jeering crowds baying for his blood. And there was blood. It was in the sand around his feet and on his sword. There was blood on his hands. Not only the blood of the men he'd killed, but his own, from a deep wound on his arm. He couldn't feel any pain; only guilt. And anger.

The scene changed. He had a bird's eye view of the palace at Crete. The usually bustling streets were deserted and the usually shining palace was crumbling. Crumbling to dust. The Romans swarmed round it like ants, finding impossible entrances and yet more innocents to murder. And then he was in his step-father's throne room. There was a man upon the gold plated seat, but it wasn't King Paulus. It was Jason.

He was jolted back to reality by the sound of urgent bells sounding. The water around them churned as the rearing hull of a ship approached. The waves capsized the raft. Percy was dunked in the freezing waves, too stunned to ensure himself dry. Annabeth surfaced beside him, spluttering and coughing up water. Several heads bobbed up: five, six, all seven present.

Before he had tome to un-scramble his brain and figure out what the Hades was going on, a rope ladder slapped the water near Jason. The Praetor grabbed it automatically, using one free arm to pull the Centurion and his slave-girl to 'safety'. Of course _they_ would think a Roman slave ship a safe place. A paradise.

Percy craned his neck, squinting against the sun to make out the silhouettes of several men leaning over the ship's railings. In the distance, he could hear sharp orders being called out; the lash of a whip.

"Who be you?" A foreign, accented voice hailed them. It sounded innocent enough at first, but to the Prince, trained to dissect other's language and voice, there was a subtle undertone of greediness. He was checking new stock.

Percy would never admit it, but it had taken that minuet of thought to process the intentions of the ships residents. To him, there was no excuse for slow thought, and Annabeth would surely scold him later. If there _was _a later. How well known was his face in the Roman empire. How well known was Annabeth's, or Piper's? He knew for definite he would be caught in Rome, what with all the soldiers and politics. But they could be taken anywhere.

Piper grabbed his shirt sleeve, her eyes wide like realisation had dawned the same time it did for Percy. He imagined he looked pretty similar himself. His brain whirred with ideas and possibilities, but in the end their fate seemed inescapable.

"Jason Grace, Praetor of the First legion. Our ship was sunk by – by a sea serpent," Jason called. There was an excited commotion on deck.

"Climb! We welcome you!" The voice called. It occurred to Percy that he hadn't even mentioned the Greek ship, or the fact that he had the biggest enemy of Rome completely trapped. It made him question Grace's motives. What _did _spur a Roman on to do the things they did, kill the people they killed?

Jason started up the rope ladder, Frank and the girl close behind him. Percy and Annabeth exchanged looks. The question in her eyes was clear: what can we do? Percy wanted to answer so, so much, yet there was no answer. He helped Piper onto the ladder, and Annabeth followed behind. Before Percy started himself, he remembered the Roman slave he'd saved. Looking round, he saw him sculling poorly.

"Here," Percy offered. The slave smiled weakly, taking his hand reluctantly, and hauling himself onto the ladder. Percy followed behind.

* * *

"So," the ships commander strode the width of the deck, eyeing his 'catch' with a greedy gleam in his eyes, like how the emperor would look at a poor civilization living on good land: something to make profit from.

Before he had a chance to continue to continue, Jason stepped forward, hoping he looked confident. "Jason Grace, Praetor-"

"Yes yes, you've already told me _that._ But, the others?"

"Uhm, this is Frank Zhang, my Optio. His freed-slave and a – a galley slave," Jason purposely evaded the obvious question of why he was also in the company of three Greeks.

"Is that so?" The captain seemed to have completely forgotten his previous promise of peace. Jason didn't like his eyes. They showed too much of his ugly personality. The man was obviously a tyrant, even worse than the Auger, Octavion. Jason pretended to ignore the mistrustful glances the sailors were throwing him. "Then who, prey tell, are these three fine Greeks accompanying your person?"

Jason opened his mouth, but a reply stuck in his throat.

"They are indeed fine slaves. We bought them as an – as a gift," Frank blurted. From the corner of his eye, Jason caught Percy tense. The Praetor was pretty sure the Prince of Athens was not too happy about being identified as a slave, a common one at that.

At that moment, a man appeared behind the Captain. He ran a hand through his oily hair, an exasperated expression shadowing his face before he regained his composer.

"Ah," he grinned like a cat trapping a mouse, that is to say, evilly, "slaves from the ship!" Jason frowned. He was _helping _them?

"Octa..." he started.

"How _dare _you address me, slave. You should be pleased to be alive." Jason wondered if he felt as confused as he felt. Why was Octavion..?

"You're saying this man is lying about even being a Roman? This is treason!" The captain shouted, outraged.

"I _am _Roman, Captain. My badge..."

"Is _where?" _Jason so wanted to flourish his Praetor badge in the man's face. He wanted to hold his thick, purple cloak in the air. But he didn't have them. He had discarded everything while in the water, or he would have drowned. He didn't even have his armour, and his features definitely didn't mark him as someone from Italia.

He had heard little from his past, but he knew from the little time spent with his sister that his mother had been from Britannia. He had carried the look: pale skinned and light blond hair. If he hadn't been clean shaven and bearing the military haircut, he would never have made it as high in the Roman army. He'd have been a joke.

"Take them to the holding cell, _yes_ the one separate from the slaves. They intrigue me somehow, I want to know more." Burly sailors appeared on either side of Jason. He wanted to struggle; to prove his status, but it was impossible. Even if he _could _overpower the two men accompanying him, there was nowhere else to go.

* * *

**Hope you liked it. Thankyou for reading! I've decided to ask questions every now and then. So, just to see wheter I've been biased in this story so far, who do you think is my favourite character. Also, who is your favourite character and why? I'll announce the results in a few chapters time. Thanks for reading and as always, comment and have a good day.**


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